


One By One

by DramioneInLove



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Character Deaths, Discrimination, F/M, Graphic, Horror, Mention of blood, Mention of torture, Profanity, Riddle Manor, Violence, mention of rape, stuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 02:51:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14251476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramioneInLove/pseuds/DramioneInLove
Summary: An unlikely group of witches and wizards come to be trapped in an abandoned mansion after a Portkey accident. But is said accident that unfortunate? Probably not in the eyes of the person who's killing them off one by one...





	One By One

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you're happy with this piece, prompter! I included some of your optional extras and discarded others. Please do tell me if I nailed what you wanted to read!

“We're trapped.”  
Harry's voice quivered slightly as he stated the predictable. Whipping his round glasses off his nose to gently clean them on his robes, he slowly approached a tall, dusty window, staring out into the fading sunset.  
“Trapped?”  
Ron flushed red as he watched his best friend, hands trembling slightly.  
“Gosh, Weaslebee, you're so thick,” a young brunette to his right snapped, glaring at the redhead. “We've tried everything. Even a fucking Bombarda Maxima won't work- even someone as dumb as you should manage to comprehend the situation, namely, as Potter so clearly put it, the fact that we are trapped.”  
Ron turned on his heel to stare the witch down.  
“Shut your pug face, Parkinson,” he barked. “If I ever-”  
“That's enough, the both of you,” Harry interrupted fiercely. He frowned. “I know where we are.”  
“And where,” a tall, black-skinned wizard drawled, “would that be, Potter?”  
“I've been here,” Harry muttered, pinching his nose. “This is Riddle Manor.”  
“Riddle me this,” Zabini snorted. “Where the fuck is that?”  
“It's in New Hampshire, and that-” Harry pointed to a graveyard in the distance. “-is the place where Cedric Diggory was murdered and Voldemort came back to life, so you can go fuck yourself, Zabini.”  
Zabini stepped forward, murder written on his face, but a beautiful, dark-haired witch by his side stopped him with a hand on his wrist.  
“Enough, Blaise,” she murmured softly. “We need each other to get out of here.”  
Harry nodded towards the witch. Astoria Greengrass smiled softly at Harry, and Ginny Weasley, standing near her brother, all but growled.  
“Paws off my boyfriend, Greengrass,” she hissed and Astoria blushed slightly.  
“Draco,” Pansy whined, turning to face one of two wizards in the shadows. “Say something.”  
Draco Malfoy stepped forward, smirking down at his friend, and shrugged, before glancing towards Harry.  
“What do you expect me to say, Pansy? Looks like Wonderboy over there is charged with saving the day again.”  
Harry slammed the palm of his hand into the wall, and stalked over to the group, eyes glinting.  
“You can go fuck yourself, too, Malfoy,” he snapped. “How the heck am I supposed to know what the hell is going on here? This reeks of black magic. For all I know, you or one of your stupid friends are responsible for this clusterfuck...”  
He stopped, running a hand through his hair in frustration, and Draco's cold face remained as stoic as ever.  
“One of us? Oh, please, Potter...”  
He pointed out each witch and wizard near Harry, one by one.  
“Harry Potter. Ron Weasley. Ginny Weasley. Luna Lovegood. Hermione Granger. Why would any one of us want to be with any one of your kind, stuck in a derelict mansion near the Dark Lord's bones?”  
Harry's eyes narrowed as he pointed out the people backing Malfoy.  
“Draco Malfoy. Pansy Parkinson. Blaise Zabini. Astoria Greengrass. Theodore Nott,” he mimicked. “All dark alumni, the lot of you. Come again, Malfoy?”  
Hermione stepped up to Harry, arms crossed, staring Malfoy down with a withering glare. He glared right back, not impressed in the least.  
“As much as your theory holds water, Harry,” she muttered and Malfoy rolled his eyes. “It was a Portkey accident. You cannot hold them responsible for something under control of the Ministry.”  
“Why here?” Harry asked, whipping around to face his friend as if she held the answers. “Alright, the Ministry was stupid enough to let two Portkeys go off at the exact same time in the vicinity of one another. But why did that accident send us here?”  
Hermione lowered her gaze to the floor, thinking fast. It was strange, after all. Malfoy and his goons had been, apparently, taking a Portkey to the Quidditch World Cup in Wales, and she, Harry and their friends had been taking their own. The Ministry had indeed let two Portkeys leave within two hundred metres of each other at exactly six thirty-three in the evening. Even a child knew that Portkeys, when closer to each other than a mile, would tend to explode if going off at the same time, sending the people attached straight to Merlin-knew-where. Which was why the Ministry was supposed to monitor Portkeys carefully. The two groups had landed here, in Riddle's Manor according to Harry- and an hour later, they were nowhere near escaping the ancient building.  
“This is bullshit,” Theodore Nott muttered darkly. “We need to get out.”  
“That's a fine idea, Nott, if I do say so myself,” Ginny answered brightly, “but it just poses one tiny little problem: we can't.”  
Hermione's brow knitted together.  
“Can't? We should be able to,” she exclaimed. “A building in itself isn't sentient, it shouldn't be able to resist our spells. Even admitting that Riddle Manor was secured by Voldemort's own wards, magic fades away over time.”  
“Hogwarts' magic doesn't,” Ron pointed out, frowning.  
“Hogwarts' magic would if it came to be abandoned,” Hermione returned. “Given the strength of the castle's wards, it would take time- probably several decades- but it would slowly become a building like any other. Its inhabitants' magic are what upholds Hogwarts' own...” She tapped her lip, thinking, trying to ignore everyone's stare on her. Even the Slytherins knew that she was a highly educated witch. “Of course, Voldemort was only here a short amount of time. His wards should already be down now,” she admitted, “especially since we managed to enter.”  
Pansy shivered openly, staring at Hermione in horror.  
“Then if the house itself isn't keeping us in,” she asked, “what is?”  
Hermione closed her eyes to suppress her own shiver.  
“Something sentient,” she answered. “A witch or a wizard has pulled the lot of us into this house, and is keeping us from getting out.”  
A long silence met her words, and Ginny caught Harry's hand for comfort.  
“Perfect,” Harry muttered and those present turned to stare at him as if he were mad. “If something sentient is keeping us in, then we need only find that person.”  
Ron nodded slowly, imitated by Astoria.  
“But...why?” she asked, perplexed.  
Hermione shrugged.  
“We'll find out when we discover who's keeping us here.”  
“That's all fine and dandy,” Blaise Zabini grumbled, “but what if the wizard or witch imprisoning us here isn't, you know, here? What if he or she is controlling the place from a distance?”  
“I doubt that,” Hermione replied, shaking her head. “It takes great magical strength to control a whole building, especially one the size of this house. If it was just wards boxing us in, we would already have dismantled them by now. Parkinson's stupid Bombarda Maxima would have done the trick...”  
“Fuck off, Granger,” Parkinson snapped, eyes dark. “No-one died.”  
“It was incredibly stupid,” Hermione pointed out, face scrunching up in disgust.  
“It proved your little point about the wards, though, didn't it?”  
“Enough,” Draco Malfoy interfered, voice ice cold. “Granger, continue.”  
The two young women glanced at him in surprise, but Hermione slowly began speaking again.  
“What I'm saying is that the person responsible for this situation is here, in this house with us.”  
Harry pulled his wand instantly, pointing it at Malfoy, face caught in a sneer.  
“Well have at it then, ferret.”  
The blonde-haired wizard merely raised an eyebrow, dismissing his childhood nemesis with a bored glance before turning to Blaise.  
“Well if we're supposed to find this person, better start searching,” he declared.  
“No need to run together,” Blaise answered, nodding towards Harry. “Best break down into two groups. Cover more ground.”  
“I'd suggest we run by groups of no more than two,” Luna spoke for the first time, casting her dreamy eyes around the large entrance where they stood. “If the witch or wizard imprisoning us hasn't shown themselves yet, they must have a reason to remain hidden.”  
“Luna's right,” Ginny caught on. “If we trample around the place like a herd of buffalo, they'll hear us coming a mile away.”  
Harry slowly sheathed his wand.  
“I'm afraid I'll have to insist on matching the pairs with one witch or wizard from each side,” he stated calmly, green eyes boring into Malfoy's grey ones. “Until we know who we're dealing with.”  
“Fuck off to the Muggle world, Potter,” Theodore swore, producing his own wand. “We're just as trapped as you are, so you can stop throwing accusations around!”  
Harry turned to stare at Theodore, crossing his arms across his toned chest.  
“I offed Voldemort, Nott, but you're free to try,” he snapped, eyeing the Slytherin's wand.  
“Enough, both of you,” Hermione sighed. “We'll achieve nothing with fighting. As it stands, Harry's idea is a good one. We don't know what we're up against and- well, we all fought a war, albeit on different sides. Among us, the magic we used is very...varied.”  
Blaise bit back a laugh, staring at Hermione coldly.  
“Well see, Potter? Your bitch friend here insults us too, but at least she can do it diplomatically,” he snarled. “I'll go for it.”  
“Fine,” Ginny sighed, stroking Harry's shoulder to keep him from throwing himself at Zabini. “Greengrass, stop looking at Harry like he's your lifeline. You won't pair up with him.”  
“I'll go with her,” Ron interrupted, nodding towards Astoria. “She seems like the least stupid of your lot. I guess we can cover the ground floor.”  
Astoria glanced at him, but nodded briefly, going to stand by the redhead whilst eyeing Harry unhappily.  
“I'll go with Potter, then,” Pansy stated coolly, pulling her wand. “You try hexing me, Potter- I'll kill you.”  
“Oh, I'm warned,” he muttered. “What will you do? Bark in my face and steal a bone from the kitchens?”  
Pansy gave him a cold half-smile. “Gnaw on your bones, more like. What do you think of the first floor?”  
“Works for me,” he shrugged. “Gin?”  
The beautiful redhead flipped her hair back, assessing her options.  
“Pick me, Weasley,” Blaise groaned. “Anything but the Mudblood.”  
Ginny's hex flew at him, but he countered it with a sneer.  
“I'm starting to believe that you're behind all this,” she hissed. “Even Malfoy doesn't hold a candle to your evil, Zabini.”  
He mock-bowed, tucking his wand back into his robes.  
“At your service, m'lady.”  
“Shut your mouth,” she grunted and Theodore interrupted.  
“I'll go with Weasley,” he stated. “She'd hex Draco or Blaise to the ground three feet into their exploration.”  
Harry watched Theodore through guarded eyes, then nodded.  
“Granger, with me,” Malfoy drawled immediately, picking his nails. “There is no way in hell that I'm going to be paired up with Loony.”  
Luna simply shrugged, undeterred, and Blaise opened his mouth to argue, but shut it instantly as Luna, sauntering up to him, cast a non-verbal Silencing Charm.  
“Watch out,” she warned in her soft voice. “I did fight a war, and on the winning side.”  
Harry grinned, and Hermione sighed.  
“Of all the wizards on this Earth, I had to be paired up with you,” she spat at Malfoy and he cast her an amused glance.  
“If you ask me, Granger, you're getting the best partnership possible out of this,” he smirked. “You could have been stuck with our King Weasley over there.”  
“Lucky I'm not asking you,” she growled. “What about the cellar?”  
He nodded.  
“Go for the cellar, Granger.”  
“We'll take the second floor,” Luna called out, while Blaise stared at her angrily, his mouth still glued shut.  
“That leaves us with the attic,” Ginny shivered. “Great.”  
Theodore rolled his eyes but turned towards Draco.  
“How about we all meet up here in an hour? Should be enough time,” he stated, glancing down at his pocket watch.  
Harry nodded.  
“Go for it,” he exclaimed before turning towards the stairs. “If anyone's in trouble...well, the best of us can send Patronuses,” he added smugly.  
The Slytherins stared at him hatefully, Blaise flipping him the bird, and then they were all walking away in pairs, muttering insults to each other under their breath.  
…  
A blood curdling scream ripped through Riddle Manor. Followed by another, and then a third.  
Hermione whipped on the balls of her feet, staring at the ceiling above her. She had been quietly walking around the maze that was the cellar, the path between the bottles of Saint-Emilion wine and the sacks of mouldy vegetables narrow, Malfoy silent behind her. Wand at the ready, she froze.  
“Looks like someone's in trouble,” Malfoy muttered and she quickly shoved past him.  
“Sounded like Astoria,” she commented. “Where's Ron's Patronus?”  
Ignoring Malfoy's muttered- and insulting- reply, Hermione ran towards the stairs, slipping on the wet stone as she went. Going up the stairs two by two, her ankle suddenly bent, and with a small cry, she fell backwards.  
Malfoy caught her easily, staring down into her flushed face.  
“Careful there Granger. I wouldn't want you to slip now, would I?”  
She wanted to slap the superior smirk straight off his all too handsome face, but chose to simply snarl back.  
“Put me down, you obnoxious oaf,” she growled. “I need to see what's happening up there.”  
To her surprise, he obeyed, setting her to her feet almost daintily. Hermione tested the weight on her ankle, good: it wasn't broken. They took off in silence again, as Astoria's screams of horror came closer.  
Hermione rushed into the ballroom on the ground floor and stopped, as her heart stopped beating.  
Astoria was shaking, tears falling freely from her eyes, her hands fisting her own hair, pulling at it as she sat against a wall, screaming in horror.  
Smack dab in the middle of the ballroom, lying on his back, eyes open and face forever frozen in horror was Ron, a rusty kitchen knife protruding from his heart.  
Hermione could only stare, Malfoy at her back, as Harry and Pansy rushed in, Theodore and Ginny on their heels. Blaise and Luna arrived a moment later. Ginny ran to her brother's body, screaming as loud as Astoria was, slapping the corpse, telling him to wake up...Pansy was retching in a corner of the room, and the others were watching on in horror and disbelief. Harry slowly approached a still wailing Astoria and slapped her, hard.  
She stopped screeching with a hiccup and stared up at him, cheek pink, reduced to silence.  
“What happened?” he asked, his voice steel as he stared at her, as if his best mate's body wasn't lying a few feet from there. Hermione knew Harry: he would mourn later. Right now, a greater danger needed to be addressed. Whoever had killed Ron needed to be dealt with, and Harry wouldn't shed a tear as long as the threat remained.  
“I...I don't know,” Astoria cried, “I was...we came in and...we were fighting and...suddenly it...I saw...red light and it...it went dark, I...think I was knocked out with a spell...and when I woke up...”  
She was trembling heavily and Harry turned away from her as Pansy hurried to calm her friend.  
“Leave her alone, Potter,” Blaise snapped. “She's been through enough already!”  
“Enough,” Draco stated coldly as Potter looked one second from losing his shit and cursing the daylights out of Blaise. He took several steps forward as Harry bent to pull his girlfriend away from Ron's corpse. Hermione stared at the blood surrounding Ron, until Draco shielded her view by stepping in front of her. She narrowed her eyes, feeling numb, and one single thought penetrated through her hazy mind: did Malfoy do that on purpose? To protect her?  
She almost snorted at the thought and shook herself back to the present.  
“...no more pairs,” Draco was saying. “Something's out to kill, and we can't afford to let it murder any more of us.”  
To Hermione's shock, Harry nodded.  
“Malfoy's right,” he stated, pulling Ginny to his chest, eyes on Hermione. “But what now? If we can't lure it in, we can't fight it.”  
A long silence met his words before Luna, shakily, spoke.  
“We need to...put him somewhere. We can't leave him like this.”  
…  
Pansy, Blaise and Theo had remained with Astoria in the ballroom while the others had gone, together, to retrieve some yellow-stained sheets from a bedroom in the upper floor. Harry and Hermione worked together in silence to wrap Ron's body with them, and they had deposited him in the same bedroom. They would retrieve his body later on.  
The group was silent as everyone sat on dusty sofas and armchairs in the small sitting room on the first floor. Ginny was sobbing quietly into Harry's chest, and Astoria had finally fallen into a numb state of mind, cheeks tear-stained and face pale. Finally, Blaise spoke, his voice making everyone start.  
“You know what's missing here?” he asked gravely, looking around as his comrades leaned towards him, expectancy written all over their faces. Did Blaise have a clue to help them get out? Did he know who or what murdered Ron?  
“A game of Exploding Snap,” he announced with a snicker, and Theodore fell back into his armchair with a groan of disgust. Harry had to literally hold on to Ginny as the young woman tried to jump to her feet, probably to beat wizard's smug face in. It was Luna, unchecked, who reacted, however. A large bang resounded around the room, and a second later, Blaise was once again silenced- the charm, this time, being accompagnied by huge, swelling warts that erupted on his handsome face. As he clutched his cheeks silently, glaring at Luna, she shrugged, tucking her wand into her skirt's waistband.  
“That's an explosion for you, Zabini. An explosion of warts,” she said in her perpetual dreamy voice.  
Pansy, meanwhile, was glaring at her friend.  
“It isn't funny, Blaise,” she spat. “Weasley is...he's...it isn't funny! It could have been any one of us. Hell, we're still not out of here, and no-one knows if we'll make it out alive...”  
She fell back into the sofa she was sharing with Astoria and Draco, closing her eyes with a sigh. A long silence ensued, then Ginny, wiping her tears, muttered,  
“I need to...I need to use the bathroom.”  
Harry hesitated, then nodded.  
“Take the girls with you,” he suggested.  
Hermione stood, extending a hand that Ginny grabbed immediately, and Luna followed.  
“Three?” Draco drawled. “Is that safe?”  
“We're going to the bathroom, Malfoy, we're hardly tracking down our villain,” Hermione snapped.  
“Take Pansy and Astoria with you,” he challenged, eyes hard. She stared at him for a short while.  
“No, Malfoy. Last time Astoria went somewhere, her partner was-”  
Hermione stopped short, but the damage was done: Astoria was wailing again. The Muggleborn witch shot Harry a sorry smile, and she quickly exited the room, Ginny and Luna trailing behind her.  
…  
“No!”  
The shout of horror sent everyone remaining in the sitting room to their feet. Harry sped out of the door, his comrades following at a fast pace. At the end of the corridor, the bathroom door was open, and he noticed with a jolt that blood was sprayed against the opposite wall. He burst into the room, and came to an immediate stop.  
Hermione was backed up against the sink, hand covering her mouth, and Luna's vomiting could be heard from within the adjacent toilet stall. It clearly took Harry a minute to realize that the beheaded body at Hermione's feet- the stump of the neck still spurting copious amounts of blood- was his girlfriend's. Hermione heard Pansy's scream behind Harry, and a loud thud as Astoria fainted, but he couldn't take his eyes off Ginny. A massive amount of bloodied, silky red head to his left indicated that her head had been separated in a single blow.  
Hermione was in front of him in two steps, face blank with shock.  
“Harry,” she murmured, “Harry...step back.”  
She pushed against his chest, relieved that he didn't resist. Carefully, as though he was a porcelain doll, she took his hand and walked him back to the sitting room, pushing him down onto an armchair, before rummaging around in the bar, probably looking for alcohol. Pansy, levitating Astoria's limp body, and Theodore returned to the room, shaking. Hermione's head snapped sharply towards them.  
“Where are the others?” she asked faintly.  
Theodore seemed at a loss for words, and Pansy settled Astoria onto a sofa before turning her teary gaze to the Muggleborn.  
“They're...they're with her,” she replied softly. “They're going to...going to put her upstairs with her brother.”  
Hermione nodded stiffly, pulling a bottle of Ogden's out of the bar and brushing the dust off of it. Suddenly, Harry rose from his chair with a roar, punching the wall beside him. A sickening cracking sound came from his broken knuckles, and he fell to his knees, sobbing silently. Hermione hesitated- Harry, when confronted with the death of those he loved, could be like a wounded animal, at his most dangerous- but approached quietly and tilted the bottle to his lips. He drank soundly, gagging on the beverage, but it seemed to calm his tears.  
“Not yet,” she whispered. “Don't lose it yet. We need you, Harry.”  
Pressing his shoulder silently, she took a swig before handing the bottle to Pansy, who drank as well. Once again, Harry seemed subdued, and she brought him back to his chair. Her heart thumped in relief as the others entered the room, and Blaise walked straight up to Pansy, hand reaching for the bottle of Ogden's. Hermione returned to the bar: they would need a second bottle.  
…  
“It's morning.”  
Theodore's voice was cracked from lack of use as he stared out of the curtains into the sunny, overgrown garden. No-one had slept, and no-one had said a word since the group had reunited after Ginny's body had been taken care of. No-one had dared. Pansy raised her tired eyes to her friend.  
“The Ministry must know about the accident,” she claimed, voice scratchy. “They have to be looking for us, they have to. A bunch of wizards including the infamous Harry Potter can't vanish. They'll find us, won't they?”  
“Don't trust the Ministry on that account,” Luna warned somewhat darkly.  
Hermione stretched, bones cracking into place.  
“I'm hungry,” she admitted softly and Harry shot her a quick glance, but couldn't bring himself to smile.  
“Sounds like something Ron would say,” he muttered. “And then, you or Ginny would whack him on the head for being such a pig.”  
She noticed that Blaise and Draco were exchanging an exasperated glance, but they had the intelligence to shut up about it. Blaise leaned forward.  
“For that matter, I'm hungry too,” he admitted. “Was there anything worth it down in the cellar?”  
Hermione shrugged, looking at Draco.  
“A few boxes of pasta,” she answered. “It's not much, but it should keep us alive.”  
The blond nodded stiffly.  
“We can't all go down there,” he pointed out. “It was already a bloody miracle neither of us were crushed to death by the boxes of outdated food. There's just no space.”  
“Well we can go,” Hermione said slowly. “And...what, two more people?”  
Draco nodded.  
“I'll come,” Blaise stated, stomach rumbling loudly.  
“So will I,” Luna added.  
The room was silent as they left. Daylight streamed in through the dusty window panes, and Pansy suddenly frowned.  
“I have a bad feeling about this,” she said, and as she finished her sentence, a scream was heard from under their feet. The small group shot out the door towards the cellar. Theodore, who opened the door to the cellar first, fell down the stairs with a loud shout.  
“Shit,” Harry muttered as Astoria carefully picked her way down.  
“Theo,” she called out. “Are you all right?”  
“I think I broke my fucking foot,” he rasped, and Harry cast a Lumos as he reached the former Death Eater.  
“Stay with him, Astoria,” he muttered. “Parkinson, with me.”  
“Is it wise to leave them alone?” she countered as Astoria took out her wand to minimize the damage.  
“You heard the scream as well as I did, didn't you?”  
“Yes, but...”  
At that moment, Luna's pale face appeared from behind a stack of boxes. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.  
“It's Zabini,” she said.  
Harry and Pansy followed her through the dark, damp maze, until they came upon Hermione, who was kneeling beside Blaise. His face had been bashed in: it was ugly, and Pansy was suddenly grateful for the lack of light. The wizard was unrecognizable.  
Slowly, Harry pulled out his wand, levitating the body through the maze with the utmost care, until they reached the stairs. He could hear Hermione mutter to Draco and frowned. Something wasn't right.  
His heart fell in his chest as they reached the stairs and two bodies came into view.  
“Fuck,” he hissed.  
“Just keep walking, Potter,” Draco called behind him. “We're obviously not safe down here. We'll levitate them.”  
“Is...is Nott alive?” Harry asked as he started ascending the stairs, eyes glued on Zabini's boots. He could hear Luna's muffled sobs.  
“Barely,” Draco answered as he checked the wizard's pulse. “Looks like he was knocked out to leave the path open for...for Tori.”  
As if on cue, everyone's eyes raised to the wall where the crucified body of Astoria Greengrass hang, her throat slit from ear to ear. Pansy fell to her knees, dry-heaving. Astoria's blood was still falling from the fatal wound, dripping eerily on the stone floor, and Harry heard Draco muttering several spells as he began taking the witch down, while Hermione levitated Theodore, and the group returned to the relative safety and light of the ground floor.  
…  
They had forgotten the pasta, although when Draco made it known, Pansy told him in no uncertain terms that he could just as well go back to the cellar to retrieve it, alone. The sun set on Riddle Manor once again as they sat in the sitting room, reduced to silence.  
“You know the worst thing?” Pansy suddenly asked no-one in particular. She was met by silence. “The worst thing is that if no-one is making any kind of noise whatsoever, I can still hear it...Tori's blood...Tori's blood dripping.”  
She covered her eyes and bit her lip, when suddenly, Luna's trembling voice spoke faintly.  
“Oh. My. Goodness,” the blonde witch stated, and everyone turned to her as she stood, clutching at her heart, eyes wide in horror staring at the ceiling behind the bar. Hermione's eyes snapped to the place Luna was staring at and her mouth opened on a silent scream.  
“Fuck!” Harry bellowed, eyes wide, as he stood as well. “Where is the bedroom situated? Where the fuck is it?”  
Hermione's heart was racing as she stared at the white ceiling. She didn't need to ask which of the ten or so bedrooms of the house he was speaking of, it was obvious: the bedroom where the four bodies lay.  
“Apparently,” she whispered, voice shaking, “just above this room.”  
Blood. Blood was soaking the ceiling beyond the bar, drenching the walls, dripping slowly onto the hardwood floor. The blood of their dead comrades, who were in the room just overhead...  
“I'm getting the fuck out of here,” Draco declared in a surprisingly shaking voice. He wrenched the door open, and the group entered the corridor, Luna levitating the still unconscious Theodore as Pansy slammed the door behind them.  
“Now what?” Harry asked as they entered the ballroom, ignoring the large blood stain on the floor.  
“We find somewhere else to die of starvation if our madman doesn't get us all first,” Draco spat, speeding out of the room.  
“Kitchen,” Hermione yelled behind them, and they quickly made their way through the entrance to the room beyond the cellar, in a small, dark corridor. Draco entered swiftly, Harry following, and Luna behind them with Theodore. Hermione burst into the room a few moments later, holding her ribs.  
“I have small legs,” she hissed. “Walk fucking slower.”  
Harry raised an eye at her language, but Draco talked over him.  
“Where's Pansy?”  
She stopped at that, panic beginning to show on her face.  
“Impossible,” she whispered. “She was right behind me...she was...”  
Hermione turned to the closed door.  
“No. It's impossible, she can't have been...she can't...”  
Draco pulled her away from the door, almost soft in his manner, and Hermione glanced at him, surprised. Pulling his wand, he exited into the corridor, and the whole group followed: their numbers were too small, now, to be separated.  
Pansy was in the entrance. The group silently gazed at her swaying body, hanging by a silk rope around her neck from the dusty, antique chandelier.  
Harry turned to the group, his eyes hard.  
“We need a plan.”  
…  
They had no plan.  
Hermione rubbed a hand over her tired face, staring at Theodore's still limp body lying near the door on a makeshift mattress transfigured from a coffee table. Luna was curled in a ball near him, snoring softly, wand in hand, and Harry had fallen asleep, his head resting on the large center table, once probably reserved for the servants' meals. Both Hermione and Draco had fallen in and out of a reckless sleep.  
“You should get some sleep, Granger,” Draco declared in a tired voice and she jumped slightly.  
“I'm thinking,” she sighed in exhaustion.  
He gave her a half-smirk and gestured towards their comrades.  
“We're tired. Sleeping won't make it any worse.”  
“I just can't wait to be out of here.”  
“Come now, Granger. This is fun.”  
There was no sarcasm in his voice, and his smirk lacked its usual nastiness. She sighed again, rubbing her lower back. The kitchen chairs were extremely uncomfortable.  
Harry started out of his sleep suddenly, raising tired eyes to his friend. His glasses were askew, yet he didn't seem to care.  
“There's no pattern,” he said, as if continuing an existing conversation. “No pattern, no motive. Looks like the work of a pure psychopath- one who isn't giving us anything to work with.”  
“Good morning, captain obvious,” Hermione muttered and she heard Draco snicker. Harry sat up, pushing his glasses up by the rim.  
“One of us couldn't have done it,” he continued. “The murders have all happened at different times, with different witnesses- witnesses who have been absolutely useless when it comes to giving proof.”  
He started ticking off his fingers.  
“Ron was killed after Astoria had been rendered unconscious by a spell. G-Ginny...Luna was in the toilet when she was...and you, Hermione, were once again rendered briefly unconscious by what was probably the same spell. Blaise was brutally attacked in the darkness of the cellar- no-one saw what was happening until it was too late. While we were tending to him, Astoria was killed...Theodore had been rendered unconscious as well, by a spell that seems to be different, as if putting him in a sort of coma. Lastly, Pansy- we were running throughout the house, and she was last in line...and disappeared from the group without anyone realizing.”  
He stopped, considering, and then said:  
“My question is this, if the goal is to kill us all, why render any potential witnesses unconscious before each murder? Why wouldn't the assassin take out everyone at the same time?”  
Hermione shook her head wearily, and Harry answered his own question,  
“I think that there is a pattern after all- we're being killed in a precise order. Whoever is hiding in this house with us is taking advantage of our outings to kill us- but he or she wants some dead before the others.”  
Silence met his theory, before Draco asked,  
“In that case, what is that pattern?”  
“I don't know,” Harry shrugged. “I really can't say...Ron was first on purpose. Attacking Gin was risky, there were two possible witnesses...but if she was killed just after her brother, there was a reason, too. After all, why not wait? Our murderer seems to have time...we're not going anywhere...after a while, we would have just gone out in pairs or something again. Then Blaise...Blaise was an opportunity, too, but it just seems too risky, again. There were three witches and wizard with him...it's almost as if his death was a ploy to get all of us down there, to kill Astoria. Why, then, Blaise? Why not Luna? Why not one of you? And finally, Pansy's death was opportunistic as well, but there's good reason for that. We're a smaller group now, we're more difficult to separate and to kill.”  
Luna's scream interrupted Draco's retort, and the three of them turned to the younger witch who was edging away from Theodore.  
“I tried to wake him,” she cried, “look!”  
Harry grabbed Theodore and turned him over onto his stomach. They stood in silence, shocked, as they looked at his obviously snapped neck. The bone at the nape was protruding from under the skin, the blood surrounding the clean wound already dry.  
“The killer was here,” Harry whispered. “Here, in the kitchen, with us.”  
“Fuck,” Draco muttered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”  
His swearing was met with a long silence, and suddenly Hermione noticed Harry's cold stare on her. A moment later, he whipped out his wand, pointing it alternatively between Draco, Luna and herself.  
“I don't think the killer simply waltzed in, killed Nott, and walked straight out, do you?” he whispered loudly, staring at them in suspicion.  
Draco's wand came out at once, pointed at the Boy Who Lived.  
“Put that fucking thing away, Potter,” he sneered. “For all we know, you could be the killer.”  
Luna backed away slowly, eyes wide, as the two wizards glared at each other.  
“Did you even sleep, Malfoy?”  
“Shut it, Potter. Fed up with your girlfriend, now were you?”  
Hermione stomped her foot, glaring at both of them.  
“That's enough,” she hissed. “As Harry said so earlier, Draco wasn't there for half of the murders...”  
“...still leaves the other half,” Harry spat.  
“...and Harry was absent for half of them too,” she insisted, giving her best friend a cold glance.  
“We won't achieve anything fighting,” Luna added, voice trembling. “Let's...let's put Theodore upstairs. And then...”  
…  
They sat around the table, eating stale rice they had found in the cupboards and drinking water from their wands, in utter silence. Luna was sniffing into her plate, and the others were subdued into silence. Finally, their first meal in days achieved, Hermione busied her trembling hands by washing the dishes before sitting down once again at the table. She closed her eyes as Luna said the dreaded words.  
“I need to use the bathroom.”  
Draco stood.  
“I need to as well,” he admitted.  
Hermione groaned.  
“Can't you just do it in a pan or something?” she uttered, but stood as well as her own bladder was threatening to burst. Harry followed suit.  
Tacitly, they ascended to the first floor, where they found another bathroom. The girls slipped in while the two wizards guarded the door, and then they reversed positions.  
Harry stepped out of the bathroom before Draco did, and stumbled over something, managing to keep upright as he looked down at the confused face of Luna Lovegood, bathed in blood.  
He only heard one word, pronounced by a cold voice, before the world went dark:  
“Stupefy!”  
…  
Harry came to, head throbbing, with a groan. His eyes fluttered open, and he noticed he was sitting on one of the uncomfortable kitchen chairs, arms and legs securely bound by silk rope. He vaguely realized that the rope was eerily similar to the rope used to forcibly hang Pansy Parkinson.  
“About fucking time,” sneered a cold voice, and Harry glanced up into the eyes of Draco Malfoy.  
“You,” Harry spat, tugging at his bonds to no avail.  
“Yes, me,” Malfoy answered coldly, sitting in a chair opposite him and reclining on it as though it was some sort of throne. “Surprise, Potter. Although I can't say it really was one...you did suspect me from the beginning, didn't you?”  
“Luna...” Harry muttered, glaring at the blond wizard as he remembered the last thing he'd seen before blacking out. Malfoy snorted.  
“She's dead, but you knew that already. Had her heart ripped from her chest- not exactly painless, per se, but remarkably quick, and quick was the goal. She had to be dead before you stepped out of that bathroom- her body would distract you long enough to let your guard down.”  
Harry frowned.  
“Your friends, Malfoy. Why your own friends?”  
Draco Malfoy gazed thoughtfully at his nemesis for a moment.  
“They weren't any more innocent than you were, Potter. Sometimes, when you really love someone, you let them go, or so it's said. However, in this particular case, I must bring a slight modification to that common saying: sometimes, when you love someone, you let the others go.”  
Harry blinked at him.  
“The Portkeys...”  
“Ah, yes, the Portkeys,” Malfoy seemed to brighten up at that. “That was a stroke of sheer genius, Potter, but not my idea originally. They just needed a little re-routing, however, the wards here were up before we arrived. After that, as Granger said, it was simply a matter of using my own magical signature to keep the lot of you in check...”  
“Hermione,” Harry hissed, heart missing a beat.  
He closed his eyes at Malfoy's wolfish grin.  
“You fucking bastard!” he howled, tugging again at his restraints.  
“Language, Potter,” Malfoy drawled, amused.  
Harry suddenly stopped, staring at the Slytherin wizard.  
“But wait a minute, here. You couldn't have killed them all. You were in front of my very eyes for several of the murders...”  
Malfoy laughed then, throwing his head back in utter delight.  
“You're very right, of course, Potter. I did admire your little theory, the one that you were exposing before Lovegood opened her gob about Theo's death. Pity, I was anticipating the climax of it. But, as I said: you are right, I couldn't- and I didn't- kill them all.”  
The kitchen door suddenly opened and Malfoy's features changed. The coldness on his traits vanished and were replaced by a look of utter tenderness as he held out his hand, beckoning.  
Hermione entered the kitchen, her face lighting up when she saw the blond wizard. She approached, grabbing his hand, and kissed his lips ever so gently before raising her head, noticing that Harry was awake.  
They stared at each other for a long moment, Draco's eyes flicking between the two of them, Hermione's face growing stonier by the second. Finally, Harry erupted.  
“What the fuck?”  
“Language, Potter,” Malfoy drawled again, sliding his hand around Hermione's waist to pull her to him. “Lover, it seems as though Potter needs an explanation. If you ask me, we can just kill him now and be done with it.”  
Hermione hushed him, pulling out a chair of her own and sitting near Draco, taking his hand.  
“Harry,” she began. “Remember when we were brought to Malfoy Manor, during our hunt for the Horcruxes?”  
He merely nodded, his eyes sliding over the two of them in disbelief.  
“Draco helped me,” she simply stated.  
“But that's...that's untrue,” he murmured, confused. “Dobby came and helped us and...”  
“Yes, you saw me between Bellatrix Lestrange's filthy hands,” Hermione nodded. “You saved me. But before that, the screaming you said you heard throughout the house...? That was Blaise Zabini, visiting Draco. Bellatrix knew him well, knew that he couldn't resist himself a piece of Mudblood.”  
Her hand tightened around Draco's, and he softly caressed her with his thumb, leaning back and letting his- his what? Girlfriend? Lover?- speak.  
“He tortured you,” Harry stated softly, eyes landing on Draco. Hermione shrugged it off, face calm.  
“A half hour. He did try for longer. Draco finally managed to reach an angle where he could Imperius him without being seen by his crazed Aunt so that he'd leave me alone, after which Bellatrix stepped in, and the rest is history.”  
Harry softly inhaled.  
“That explains Zabini,” he said. “But the others?”  
“Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson knew, and not only did they know, but they used it against Draco,” Hermione snarled, lost in her memories. “Threatened to turn him in to the Dark Lord, tell their beloved master what Draco had done if he didn't kill me. They were allegedly worried they would fall with him, should Draco be discovered and punished for what he did. The war ended before they could carry out that threat, but I didn't forget, and neither did Draco. Astoria Greengrass- well, she was really innocent of any wrongdoing, but she was betrothed to Draco by a Bonding Contract established at her birth. The only way out of one of those contracts, as you might know, is the death of one of the two betrothed.”  
“She was crucified,” Harry whispered, feeling like throwing up.  
“No, Potter,” Malfoy interrupted. “She had her throat cut to the bone, a quick and easy death. The crucifixion was just for show- to keep up with the pretense of a violent madman living in our midst. She was already dead at the time.”  
“You could have used a Killing Curse,” Harry snapped.  
“Yes, and it would have lit up the cellar and exposed us,” Malfoy grinned.  
“That's all very well and dandy for half of the deaths,” Harry returned his emerald eyes to Hermione. “But...we're your friends, we...”  
His voice broke off into a dry sob, and Hermione sighed.  
“Isn't it strange how quick you were to believe me when I told you about what Zabini had done, and accept my word as justification for my revenge?” she whispered, tears prickling her eyes, and Harry's heart plummeted to his stomach.  
“Is this about...”  
“Yes, Harry,” she interrupted curtly, wiping her tears away angrily. “It's about that. When I came to you in sixth year, thighs bloody because Ron had, in a drunken stupor after a win for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, raped me, what did you do? What did you say?”  
She was shouting now, and Harry winced.  
“You said,” she snarled, and the expression was so Malfoy-like that he was taken aback, “that Ron couldn't have, wouldn't have, and when I suggested to give you proof, you turned away from me and told me to forget about it! You told me,” her voice was trembling now, “that it wouldn't have happened had I not accepted to go walk with him around the grounds at night while he was drunk, and that regret over losing my virginity was not rape! You never heard me out. Never! Well hear me out now, Harry James Potter. He slammed me into a wall, forced his lips on mine. He stank of alcohol...I begged for him to stop, to get off me, and he whispered that I had been asking for it for years...he turned me around, took my wand from me so I couldn't defend myself, and took me from behind like a dog. When he finally finished, he blacked out right there on the castle grounds, and I came to you...I was desperate for someone, anyone, to hear me out, to believe me,” she murmured, eyes downcast. “Luna said that Ron was incapable of doing such a thing, just as you had. And Ginny...Ginny threatened me with her wand, and sneered that if I went around telling such lies to anyone else, she'd see me dead before the day was through.”  
Hermione's chest was heaving, and she wiped away the tears that had started falling during her tirade. She sat back down, and Malfoy immediately grasped her hand.  
“So be it,” Harry whispered, shook to the core, “but was killing us all really necessary?”  
“It was to me, Harry,” she spat. “You don't know what it's like, living like that. He broke me that day, and not just physically. I'd gladly have given Zabini a whole fucking day of torturing me instead of going through that at the hands of my best friend- and having my other friends denying my pain, telling me that I deserved it, and keeping in a corner of their minds that I was some lying, mental whore who was just mad Ron's physical talents weren't up to my impossible standards!”  
They sat silently for a moment, and Harry was almost glad for Malfoy's interruption.  
“After the Battle of Hogwarts, she came to me,” he grinned. “And thank Merlin for that. She came to thank me for what I'd done and I, ever the Malfoy, asked her out on a date as payment- the Malfoy name, I knew, would need repairing after the war, and what better way than to be seen with the infamous Harry Potter's Muggleborn sidekick? Now, I hadn't expected to fall in love with her, but here we are,” he gestured around the kitchen. “As soon as I saw her arrive in the restaurant in that gorgeous black lace dress, I knew I was a goner, and so I kept the relationship under wraps and out of the eye of the public- you and your friends included, per Hermione's request. When I told her I could kill for her, I meant it, Potter.”  
“All the signs were there, Harry,” Hermione added, voice calmer now. “You came close to discovering the truth a couple of times. We were almost caught in the cellar, with Astoria's death- and your theory held water. There was a pattern, although loosely based. Those who were the most likely to have a reason to be targeted- those who could come to suspect us quicker than you did- were the first to go. We wanted to keep you for the end, though- I could never end your life without explaining things to you first. I owe that to you as my best friend.”  
She stood, pulling her wand, and Draco glanced up at her, doubt written on his face.  
“Are you sure you want to, love? I can do it for you, if you'd prefer.”  
She smiled down at him.  
“I need to do it myself, Draco,” she whispered quietly, before pointing her wand at Harry's heart, and he stared at her one last time, reading the truth on her face...  
…  
_“Are you sure you want to, love?”_  
_Hermione breathed in, scooting closer to her wizard's naked body and grinning as she noticed the interest of a certain part of his anatomy as she did so._  
_“I've already put the Ministry employee under the Imperius curse,” she answered, drawing lazy circles on his torso. “He implanted the Portkeys within a few hundred metres one of the other, and I made sure that my re-routing spells held true before Obliviating him.” She sighed. “He hurt me, and they all knew. Yet no-one stopped him. They had the audacity to smile and act like it never happened. Make them bleed for me.”_  
_He nodded, his grey eyes searching hers before pulling her in for a kiss._  
_“Good,” he declared before drawing her closer. “Guess we have time for a couple more rounds before tomorrow, then.”_  
_She giggled as they disappeared under the blanket._  
_…_  
_Hermione nipped on Draco's lower lip, relishing in the way his tongue made her feel, and he pulled away with a regretful sigh, letting her forehead rest on his chest a moment._  
_“There's no going back after this,” he whispered in the darkness of the cellar. “I'm all up for it, love, but it's you I'm worried about.”_  
_She rolled her eyes, although he couldn't see her, and stated,_  
_“Draco, I've been spending the better part of the last year planning for this. Don't worry about me. The fake passports are right in my pocket for afterwards...” She grinned._  
_He pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling away towards the stairs._  
_“Oh, and Draco? Be careful. This was Voldemort's house. Never know if there might be any murderers lurking about,” she quipped cheekily, and he shook his head, silver eyes looking molten with mirth._  
_It took him all of five minutes to return._  
_A bloodcurdling scream ripped through Riddle Manor. Followed by another, and then a third._  
_Hermione whipped on the balls of her feet, staring at the ceiling above her. She had been quietly walking around the maze that was the cellar, the path between the bottles of Saint-Emilion wine and the sacks of mouldy vegetables narrow, Draco silent behind her. Wand at the ready, she froze, and turned to glance at him, before leaning up instinctively and pressing a kiss to his lips._  
_“Looks like someone's in trouble,” Draco muttered with a wink and she quickly shoved past him._  
_“Sounded like Astoria,” she commented before adding cheekily. “Where's Ron's Patronus?”_  
_Ignoring Malfoy's muttered- and insulting- reply, Hermione ran towards the stairs, slipping on the wet stone as she went. Going up the stairs two by two, her ankle suddenly bent, and with a small cry, she fell backwards._  
_Malfoy caught her easily, staring down into her flushed face._  
_“Careful there Granger. I wouldn't want you to slip now, would I?”_  
_She wanted to slap the superior smirk straight off his all too handsome face, but chose to simply snarl back, eyes softening slightly to lessen the blow she was about to deal him- not that they were past the point of insults. They could still be, after all, children._  
_“Put me down, you obnoxious oaf,” she growled. “I need to see what's happening up there.”_  
_He rolled his eyes at her._  
_“What, so I don't even get a kiss for doing my sweet lady's bidding?”_  
_She bit back a smirk and answered sternly,_  
_“Keep in character, darling. From now on, you never know who might be watching.”_  
_To her surprise, he obeyed, setting her to her feet almost daintily. Hermione tested the weight on her ankle, good: it wasn't broken. They took off in silence again, as Astoria's screams of horror came closer._  
_Hermione rushed into the ballroom on the ground floor and stopped, as her heart stopped beating._  
_He'd done it. He'd really done it. They'd done it. She was so proud of him._  
_Astoria was shaking, tears falling freely from her eyes, her hands fisting her own hair, pulling at it as she sat against a wall, screaming in horror._  
_Smack dab in the middle of the ballroom, lying on his back, eyes open and face forever frozen in horror was Ron, a rusty kitchen knife protruding from his heart._  
_Hermione could only stare, trying to quell the feeling of delight welling up in her chest, Draco at her back, as Harry and Pansy rushed in, Theodore and Ginny on their heels. Blaise and Luna arrived a moment later. Ginny ran to her brother's body, screaming as loud as Astoria was, slapping the corpse, telling him to wake up...Pansy was retching in a corner of the room, and the others were watching on in horror and disbelief. Harry slowly approached a still wailing Astoria and slapped her, hard._  
_She stopped screeching with a hiccup and stared up at him, cheek pink, reduced to silence._  
_“What happened?” he asked, his voice steel as he stared at her, as if his best mate's body wasn't lying a few feet from there. Hermione knew Harry: he would mourn later. Right now, a greater danger needed to be addressed. The danger that she and Draco represented, although Harry wouldn't know that. If he did, she was certain that he'd deal them two Killing Curses in quick succession._  
_Whoever had killed Ron needed to be dealt with, and Harry wouldn't shed a tear as long as the threat remained._  
_“I...I don't know,” Astoria cried, “I was...we came in and...we were fighting and...suddenly it...I saw...red light and it...it went dark, I...think I was knocked out with a spell...and when I woke up...”_  
_She was trembling heavily and Harry turned away from her as Pansy hurried to calm her friend._  
_“Leave her alone, Potter,” Blaise snapped. “She's been through enough already!”_  
_“Enough,” Draco stated coldly as Potter looked one second from losing his shit and cursing the daylights out of the dark-skinned wizard. He took several steps forward as Harry bent to pull his girlfriend away from Ron's corpse. Hermione stared at the blood surrounding Ron, until Draco shielded her view by stepping in front of her. She narrowed her eyes, feeling numb, and one single thought penetrated through her hazy mind: did Malfoy do that on purpose? To protect her? What an obnoxious bastard. He knew what she, herself, was going to do to several of those present during the next few hours. Yet here he was, acting all chivalrous and everything._  
_She almost snorted at the thought and shook herself back to the present._  
_“...no more pairs,” Draco was saying. “Something's out to kill, and we can't afford to let it murder any more of us.”_  
_To Hermione's shock, Harry nodded._  
_“Malfoy's right,” he stated, pulling Ginny to his chest, eyes on Hermione. “But what now? If we can't lure it in, we can't fight it.”_  
_A long silence met his words before Luna, shakily, spoke._  
_“We need to...put him somewhere. We can't leave him like this.”_  
_…_  
_Killing Ginny had been all too easy. So easy, in fact, that Hermione was almost disappointed: she had been expecting things to be harder, and had prepared accordingly._  
_If Ron had to die first because of what he had done, Ginny was a close second. She represented the greatest risk, after all: she was the least likely to forget what Hermione had accused her brother of- a brother who had just turned up dead._  
_Luna had been using the toilet and Ginny was wiping her hands in the dusty towel behind Hermione who was leaning against the sink. They didn't speak: Ginny and Hermione hadn't had the same, close, loving relationship that they used to before Ron had raped her._  
_The Diffindo whipped silently through the air, separating the redhead's body in two, and Hermione fell to the floor with an audible thud. A moment later, she heard Luna's steps, and the blonde witch screamed out,_  
_“No!”_  
_She felt Luna's hands on her shoulders and stirred, looking around in confusion before noticing Ginny's body in front of her. Shooting to her feet, Hermione put a hand in front of her mouth for pretense, as Luna backed off into the toilet to throw up. Harry's worried face suddenly appeared in the doorway..._  
_…_  
_“You girls go this way,” Blaise grunted, pointing towards his left as he reached the bottom of the stairs, wand at the ready. “We'll go right.”_  
_Hermione would have usually told Zabini to eff off, but it happened to suit her goals. She caught Draco's eye, and the blonde gestured to himself discreetly. Just as quietly, she nodded once, and began scanning the cellar with Luna- she really was hungry. She heard, a few minutes later, Draco's muffled “fuck”, and her heart jumped in her chest for a second, before the blonde appeared in front of them._  
_“Zabini,” he announced gravely, glancing at Luna, and they took off, Luna screaming as they approached the body. Hermione's hand grazed Draco's as they waited for the others. They heard a loud series of thumping and Theodore's short cry, and she glanced up at him._  
_“Fell down the stairs, I'd wager,” he muttered, eyes gleaming, and she grinned at him._  
_Draco vanished into the shadows as she kneeled beside Luna, taking the shaking witch into her arms and soothing her to provide a distraction for Draco's disappearance. Finally, Luna stood as she heard Harry's voice approaching, and left to lead the way to Zabini's corpse. Harry, face grave, levitated the dead man and they started making their way out of the cellar._  
_Draco returned a short while later, slipping into pace behind her, fingers grazing her lower back in the dark, and she breathed again._  
_“Fuck,” Harry hissed, and she knew they'd happened upon their next victim._  
_…_  
_The blood-oozing ceiling hadn't been planned, but it did give her an opportunity. As they ran through the house, she began slowing her pace. Pansy's annoyed voice came from behind her._  
_“Fuck, Granger, keep going. What the fuck are you doing?”_  
_“Stitch,” she gasped, and Pansy bit her lip worriedly._  
_“Come on, I'll help you,” she spat, holding out her hand, only to meet the business end of Hermione's wand as the Muggleborn witch straightened herself. Pansy's eyes widened as realization slowly dawned on her._  
_“Stitches are for snitches, after all,” Hermione muttered, referring to Pansy threatening Draco to take his activities to Voldemort should he fail to kill her, years before._  
_“Please, Granger...”_  
_“Don't beg me,” Hermione hissed as the silky rope erupted from her wand..._  
_…_  
_Hermione watched Harry's hand twitch in his sleep, and gazed at Draco who was smirking at her. Silently, the only noise in the kitchen being Luna's soft snores, he pointed towards Harry, then Luna, then Theodore, the question evident on his face. Of course, Hermione thought, Harry or Luna would be the sensible option. Theodore wasn't going anywhere, after all...the Stupefy cast on him by Draco while he was killing Astoria had had a strange side effect on the wizard. That being said, Hermione wasn't sure when, or if, the wizard would wake up. For all she knew, he could burst off the mattress in five minutes, screaming that he'd seen Draco hex him before going for Astoria..._  
_Slowly, she pointed to Theodore, eyes glued on Harry to check that he was really sleeping._  
_He nodded and stood, making his way towards the comatose wizard in utmost silence, breaking his neck with such brute force that Hermione wondered why the noise hadn't woken anyone. Draco froze momentarily, and quickly made his way back to his seat._  
_“You should get some sleep, Granger...”_  
_…_  
_Luna stood silently, and Hermione almost pitied the woman for a moment. She was getting tired, too._  
_“Luna?”_  
_The blonde witch turned towards her, and Hermione raised her wand. It was coming to an end for her old friend- no more suffering._  
_A moment later, Harry crossed the bathroom threshold, stumbling on Luna's body, and Hermione raised her wand once again._  
_“Stupefy!”_  
…  
“Avada Kedavra.”  
…  
THE END


End file.
